


It's Painful, (not) Getting Over You

by AshSeven



Series: Unconfused [4]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alpha Otabek Altin, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Asexual Yuri Plisetsky, M/M, Mutual Pining, Omega Yuri Plisetsky, Yuri and Otabek can’t get it together, drunk angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-06
Updated: 2019-05-06
Packaged: 2020-02-26 21:39:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18725503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AshSeven/pseuds/AshSeven
Summary: Distractions are great, except when they don't work. Yuri and Otabek need to figure some things out about their relationship, even when it's clear to everyone else what the answer is.





	It's Painful, (not) Getting Over You

**Author's Note:**

> _From Tumblr_  
>  So 100 of you lovlies have signed up to follow me for some reason or other. And this is a big milestone, so I’m celebrating right now and you guys get a bit of extra WGAP content :)  
> This was originally going to be a deleted scene, but I ended up holding onto it and building it up a bit. It should still fit in nicely with Chapter 17.  
> So hope you guys enjoy and thanks to each and every single one of you for all your support :)

“We have to celebrate this!” Mila laughed, hugging him tightly. Yuri couldn’t help but grin, hooking his chin over her shoulder. “We’re going out tonight!”

“Ugh, I do I have to?” He still had an act to keep up, though.

“Yes.” She crushed his ribs before letting go. “You coming over to my place to get ready or do I come over to meet you?”

He sighed. “I’ll come over.”

Mila was juggling roughly seven sponsors - almost as many as Viktor had and the second most of all of Yakov’s students. But she was more excited than Yuri at the news of his deal with  _War Paint_. She had told him to bring a few outfits, so she had something to work with, but she shoved a gift bag at him the second he walked through her door.

“Congrats!” She smiled.

Yuri raised an eyebrow peering at the pink tissue paper poking out from the top. “You got me a present?”

“Yup, open it!”

He rolled his eyes, dumping his bag next to her bed, and sat down before he dug through for whatever it was she had gotten him. A shirt? He pulled it out, eyebrows shooting up his forehead. A fucking awesome shirt. It was dark grey with a tiger face on the front in cream outlines and red writing across the top. But there was also a v-shaped cutout right on the the chest, leaving the collar, but was probably wide enough to show off a decent amount of chest.

Yuri giggled, pulling on the shirt right away, tossing the one he had been wearing to the floor. It was a little loose on him, the cutout actually showing a bit more than he had expected, but it was still amazing.

“I saw it in Italy, and thought of you,” Mila said proudly as Yuri examined himself in the mirror. “I was going to save it for Christmas or your next birthday, but that’s too far.”

“It’s so cool,” he said, grinning and adjusting how it sat on his shoulders. “Thank you!”

“I know right?” She came up next to him and tilted her head. “Here, the mannequin was wearing it like this.” She spun him around, gathering the hem of the shirt at his navel and tying it in a knot. “Show off that tiny waist!”

He rolled his eyes, but he wasn’t really annoyed; he honestly couldn’t be. “Now I have to get you something cool for your birthday,” he groaned.

“Yeah. I expect to be amazed.” She winked at him.

His finished outfit consisted of black leggings and a few chunky bracelets. He had brought a few pairs of heels, but Mila had shaken her head and told him that Yakov would have her ass if she let him out in heels while his ankle was still healing. So, he ended up in a pair of her sneakers, black Steve Madden high-tops with gold snake skin accents. She was probably not going to get them back at the end of the night.

They both took a couple pictures with each other in front of Mila’s mirror. And Mila, feeling troublesome, pressed her lips to Yuri’s cheek, leaving behind a bright pink kiss mark. He would have been mad, but instead he uploaded the picture to his Instagram and tagged her in it. Then threw up one of the other selfies to Snapchat.

“Okay, I’m gonna tell Anna and the others to meet us there, but first-” she disappeared into the kitchen and returned less than a minute later holding a bottle of vodka under her elbow, two glasses, and a carton of orange juice.

Yuri scoffed. “We didn’t even do this much for my actual birthday.”

She wrinkled her nose, tossing one of the glasses at him. “Cause Lilia is way too strict.”

“What the fu-” He caught it with both hands. “You just fucking threw a  _glass_  at me!”

She giggled, setting down the orange juice on her nightstand and cracked open the vodka.

It was only Thursday night, so the  club wasn’t packed but there was a big enough crowd for Yuri to have nearly lost Mila a few times as they danced. Anna, Elena, and Lydia had cheered Yuri on, and they had each promised him a shot as congratulations. He had already downed the ones from Elena and Lydia, even though he and Mila had arrived at the club tipsy. Mila’s fingers played with the knot above his navel as she danced behind him, grinding her hips against his ass. The strobe lights pulsed red, blue, and green, and the music was pounding so loudly that he couldn’t hear Mila even when she shouted right into his ear.

“What?” he yelled, unable to hear his own voice.

She rolled her eyes, then mimed drinking from a glass and pointed in the direction of the bar. He nodded and grabbed her hand tightly as she shoved her way through the crowd.

“What are you drinking?” The music was a bit muted at the bar and she waved at the bartender to get his attention.

“Anna still owes me a shot,” he answered, tucking a lock of sweat-dampened hair behind his ear.

Mila snorted, nudging Anna with her hip. “You heard the man.”

Anna laughed, winking at Yuri before turning around and ordering a round of flaming shots. Yuri’s mouth hung open as the bartender placed five glasses in front of them, all lit up with blue and orange flames.

“Take a picture of me!” he demanded, shoving his phone at Elena, grabbing one of the glasses.

He flashed a grin at the camera before blowing out the flame and downing it all in one smooth motion. It burned as if it was still lit on its way to his stomach, and Mila shoved a light mixed drink into his hand once he had set down his empty shot glass. Elena handed him back his phone and he was pleased to see that she had taken a video instead. The others took their shots with much less build up.

“You guys want to-”

Someone tapped Yuri’s shoulder. Mila’s eyes widened and a wicked grin spread across her face.Yuri spun around slowly, hoping he didn’t look as wobbly as he felt.

“Can we buy you guys a round?”

A tall woman with dark hair pulled up into a short, faux-hawk grinned at them as she jerked her head at a group of guys who were leaning against the bar not too far away from them. Mila was already looking at them, judging. She nodded after a short while and the three girls behind her began to giggle.

“Sure,” Mila said grinning.“I’d never turn that down.”

The woman turned back to her friends and Mila leaned in close. “The blond guy is mine.”

Anna groaned softly but then gave in. “Fine, but I get the one in the red shirt.”

Yuri looked over at the group, but coughed and looked away when he caught the woman staring at him. She was probably an alpha, by the looks of it. But he knew that counted for shit; Lilia was an alpha and he was just about taller than her. Still, he had a feeling.

“What are you guys drinking?” she asked, sliding up next to Yuri. He tried to study her, black ripped jeans, a dark henley rolled up at the sleeves, and she had a pretty cool-looking tattoo that curled around her forearm and disappeared under her shirt sleeve. What sealed the deal, though, was that she was wearing fucking leopard-print, combat boots. Otabek would never in a million years wear something like that.

“Surprise me,” he grinned, raising an eyebrow.

She smiled, signalling the bartender. “I’m Mariya.”

“Yuri.”

They ended up on the dance floor not too long afterwards. Mariya seemed hesitant at first, but Yuri’s head was buzzing, and he grabbed her arms, setting them on his hips as he swayed them to the music. She smelled good, he thought as he leaned back against her, surprisingly there was only the barest hint of alcohol or sweat or the general stink of the club. There was even a tinge of leather, like Otabek. He let his eyes fall shut, rolling his entire body against hers as his head lolled to the side. She still was a bit timid to touch him, but it only took a few minutes for her to run her palms up his bare waist. Her touch tickled, and he giggled, feeling it bubble out of his throat.

She was more confident after that, letting her hands roam across his stomach, dipping her thumb into his navel. A rush of excitement nearly bowled Yuri over, and he opened his eyes to look down his body. He half expected to see tanned hands with thick fingers, and neat, short nails. Instead, the hands were pale, and the fingers were thin and tapered with dark nail polish. He was almost disappointed.

Mariya mumbled something into his ear; he couldn’t hear her over the music so he nodded and her grip became the slightest bit tighter around his hips. He let out a small sigh, it was getting harder and harder to keep his head up straight, so he let it fall back against her shoulder. Not as broad as Otabek’s either. He shook his head; fucking Otabek wasn’t here right now. Otabek wasn’t even single. He bit the inside of his cheek. Fuck. Why the hell was he still thinking about him? He stomped his foot in frustration, but his entire body tilted to the side. Mariya startled, wrapping an arm tightly around his waist to keep him upright. And, okay, maybe he’d gone overboard that night. His fingers were tingling and his mouth was so dry. But he wasn’t fucking done yet. He covered Mariya’s arms with his own, slotting his fingers in the spaces between hers, and pushing his ass against her. She paused for a second, before swaying along with him and using her free hand to brush his hair away from his neck. He knew was was coming next, he let his eyes shut and the skin on his neck was prickling in anticipation. There was a flash of full lips, soft and stretched into a smile, as they pressed against his neck then the sharp sting of teeth in his mind. He sighed softly, right before the real pair of lips touched his neck. He nearly jumped in surprise, but planted his feet firmly against the floor and tilted his head further to the side, pushing back against her. She wasn’t Otabek, and he would be damn well fine with it.

Except he wasn’t, and somehow she was able to tell.

Minutes or maybe it was hours later the two of them stood outside the club leaning against the wall. Mariya held a cigarette to her lips, as Yuri tried to get his breathing under control. She had watched him drink and entire bottle of water then had brought him outside for some fresh air. They stood under a yellow light; the brick wall was scratchy against Yuri’s back.

“Do you mind?” she asked, holding up an orange, plastic lighter.

He shook his head, even though he couldn’t stand the smell of cigarette smoke. He wrapped his arms around his stomach and stared at the tips of his sneakers.

“Yuri,” Mariya started, blowing out a puff of smoke. Yuri looked up at her, feeling bitterness at the back of his throat. “Do you… do you have a boyfriend or…”

He inhaled sharply. “No… uh… no.”

He saw the muscles in her face tense as she clenched her jaw. “I have a feeling that’s not the whole story.” Yuri blinked. Wow, was he so obvious that a complete stranger could tell? She sighed out a stream of white smoke. “Look, I’m not here to judge, but maybe coming out to a club isn’t the best way to… deal with it.”

“I’m not dealing with anything.” He crossed his arms across his chest, but his spine was tingling.

“Okay,” she nodded. “But you seemed a bit uncomfortable when we were dancing. I don’t want to cross any boundaries here, but you’re pretty drunk and I think you should go home.”

He swallowed grinding his teeth together. Okay, he didn’t need a fucking lecture from a stranger. He narrowed his eyes, glaring at his feet. Well, fuck this. He couldn’t even go out and enjoy himself without having that fucking asshole ruin everything. They weren’t even in the same country. Fuck.

“Thanks,” he spat. “But I didn’t ask.” He pushed off from the wall and swallowed though a tightening throat. He shoved his way to the bar and flagged down the bartender. “Beluga Noble, on the rocks.” His glare must have scared the man enough to keep his mouth shut.

Mila collected him from the bar after three more drinks. He had no idea what time it was, or how long he’d been drinking alone. He did know that if he got up from the stool it would be bad for everyone. His stomach was revolting and he had to take deep even breaths to keep from spewing everything across the bar-top. He could feel the last drink coming back up in his chest and the entire bar was swaying in and out of focus. Mila mumbled something, rubbing his back and pressing her palm to his cheek. He raised his head, turning to look at her, but black spots danced at the edge of his vision and everything jolted so sharply to the side that he hand to close his eyes and cover his mouth to keep everything inside. The next thing he knew he was in Lilia’s bathroom vomiting his guts out. He was vaguely aware of Lilia standing in the doorway as Mila held his hair back.

Somehow he got into bed, Mila had probably helped him change and remove his makeup, and he knew Lilia had scolded him, while forcing him to drink a few glasses of water. His bed was spinning and swaying and the air around him felt like it was swirling. He hated it; he honestly couldn’t remember the last time he’d been  _this_  drunk. All because of one fucking asshole. God, he needed to give him a piece of his mind. He groped around his sheets for his phone, before he found it on his nightstand and nearly knocked over a glass of water.

“Hey, asshole,” he spat as soon as he saw the call connect and a yellow light flipped on from the other side of his phone screen.

“Yura?” Otabek sounded confused and still half asleep. “What’s wrong?”

Yuri blinked, but nothing came into focus. This was what Otabek must have felt like when he didn’t have his glasses. He snickered. “Nothingswrong.” His tongue felt so heavy; he smacked it against the roof of his mouth.

“Are… are you drunk?” Otabek asked.

“‘M not fuckindrunk!”

Sheets ruffled loudly against his phone speakers. Otabek moving around made his head spin even more. “Fuck, hold still.”

“Yura, you need to get some water-”

“Fuck off.” He stretched out along his mattress blinking hard. Why was his tongue so heavy? It was too big for his mouth.

“Yura-”

“Mila and Li-lilia already made me drink. God, calm dooown.” He sighed, his eyelids felt heavy too.

Otabek sighed heavily. “Okay, then you should be getting to sleep.”

“Don’twanna. ‘M mad at you.”

“Mad at me?”

“Yesh.”

“Why?”

“‘Cause I wanted to have a goodtime… tonigh… and I couldn.”

“And that’s my fault?”

“Mmmhmmm.” He let his eyes fall shut. It was too hard to keep them open. “Mariya wasn you.”

“Who’s Mariya?”

“A girl I was dancin with. She wasn you, Bekaaa.”

“Oh, I’m sorry about that.”

“You… should be.” He yawned. “I wanna dance wi you.”

“Okay, Yura, when next I’m in Saint Petersburg, we’ll go dancing. Okay?”

“‘Kay,” he sighed again, and his body felt like it was sinking into his mattress.

“Go to sleep, Yura.”

“No.”

“Yura-”

“Don’t wanna.” He yawned again.

Otabek sighed softly. It sounded like music. “Okay. Tell me about your night then. What did you drink?”

“I had… uh… I had a flamin blue Jesus - it was fuckin awesome. It was on fire.” Otabek snickered. “Then I danced with Mariya and…” a yawn barrelled from his chest, “But she wasn youuuu. Then I had… three glasso vodka. On rocks-”

“Yuri!”

“And Mila’s friends got me a s-shot each, and I had beer and a mixed…”

“Allah, Yura… how are you feeling?”

He had to think, running his hands along one of his cat plushies. Had it always been so soft?

“Yura?”

“Imissyou… Beka.”

“I… I miss you too.”

He giggled. Beka missed him. His chest felt all hot now. “Good.” He yawned again and burped a giggle. His eyes were impossible to open, but whatever.

“You should really go to sleep, Yura-”

“Hey, Be-beka?”

A long sigh.“Yes, Yura?”

“You’re my best - my best friend.”

He chuckled. “Yeah. You’re my best friend too.”

“You’re my best friend,” he yawned. Had his bed always been this soft too? “You’re my best friend, an I love you.”

He probably fell asleep after that, because he didn’t remember Otabek saying anything else afterwards.

**Author's Note:**

> Here’s Yuri’s [shirt](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/d9/29/42/d929426f15278c99e73617c71cf04d78.jpg) reference, I changed the eagle to a tiger for reasons :) and his (Mila’s) [shoes](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/d5/18/81/d51881c138d491f4d293118bcaf23691.jpg).


End file.
